


The Angel has Arrived (Welcome to Gotham)

by StarWillows



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, Be ready for slight ooc damian haha, Beta Wanted, F/M, Fluff, I also have no idea if I'm writing Jon right, I dont know how to tag, I might possibly make this slow-burn, Marinette isn't all that fragile, Multi, Not Beta Read, Probably Lila and Alya salt, Romance, beta reader wanted, i think, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:35:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23230318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarWillows/pseuds/StarWillows
Summary: The first time he saw her, he thought, 'there is no way she is real'. She was - had to be - an apparition. A conjured form from his tired and stressed brain. He scoffed, not in humour or contempt, but in disbelief. Because there was just no way she was real.He'd be damned if she was, and as weird as that is a thought came to him. That thought being, he truly well and would be a Demon Spawn, because he was, like he mentioned, damned - damned if he couldn't get that girl to like him.He was Damian Wayne. Demon Spawn; Ice Prince; Robin. He was cold, dark, and yes: cruel. But fear of those things would not stop him from meeting his angel. Fear never did. So, his new mission?Get the girl.--A very much never going to be continued fic.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Tikki, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne, and others
Comments: 27
Kudos: 357





	1. Enter, the Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Intro.

The first time he saw her, he thought, ' _there is no way she is real_ '. She was - had to be - an apparition. A conjured form from his tired and stressed brain. He scoffed, not in humour or contempt, but in disbelief. Because there was just no way she was real.

Entranced, he watched as she waltzed - no, she appeared to be gliding, floating almost, into the hall. Her midnight blue hair styled in elegant waves was swept to one side. Short bangs hung lightly above wide, curious eyes that shone when touched by the light, sparkling like the sea while as if made of silver - but no more fragile than steel. Warmth blossomed across her cheeks, like a flame lay inside her somewhere. Her chin was tilted up, but not too high, in a way that spoke of humility and deserved respect. Even the way she moved, so elegant and yet awkward, as if afraid that even the faintest of touches could shatter someone, boasted volumes of the kindness underneath her light skin. 

The way she appeared, Damian would have sworn she was an invitee of the Wayne Gala. But she was not, he was sure of that; Damian had checked the guest list twice over that same night. He wanted to assure himself that he hadn't _not_ noticed someone so captivating. He was not disappointed when he learned she was an exchange student. If anything, he became more intrigued by her.

So again begged the question: how could she be real? How could a place in Gotham, with the city as dark as it is, brighten when she walked into a room? No one had felt so alive or happy in Gotham, not like this - so at peace. Somehow this girl, by simply passing through, alleviated any tension in the air. She brought smiles to those who had not been seen smiling since they came to Gotham. So how could she be real? How, when those things never happened in the city of Gotham, where hope rarely often shined on the people? If a person had lost hope in this city, no onr even tried to bring them back to the idea of it. That was Gotham, that was how it worked. But then this girl just appears and that logic goes poof!

Like magic. She was the magician, and a whole city was her audience. With a wave of her hand sprouted forth a trick no one understood - and they were all dying to. Like children they flocked towards her shiny and bright tricks, her mysterious and charming aura. Surprises found their way into every dull moment with her - so there never really was a dull moment at all.

It had to be a dream. She had to be a dream; she could not be real. Angels didn't exist, after all - not in this world.

He'd be damned if she was, and as weird as that is a thought came to him. That thought being, he truly well and would be a Demon Spawn, because he was, like he mentioned, damned - damned if he couldn't get that girl to like him.

He was Damian Wayne. Demon Spawn; Ice Prince; Robin. He was cold, dark, and yes: cruel. But fear of those things would not stop him from meeting his angel. Fear never did. So, his new mission?

Get the girl.

* * *

Marinette stood just outside the classroom, beside the tall figure of her Homeroom advisor. He was talking in a low but calm voice, informing her of things she would need to know - class schedules, teachers' names, things like that. But as much as she tried to pay attention, Marinette's mind frequently began to run in circles. Often, her hands would lock and unlock, fingers fiddling and twiddling in front of her. Now and then she shifted positions, feeling comfort leave her more often than usual. Deep breaths were not as deep as she could normally muster, nods and "yes"es did not quite reach her voice, coming out softspoken and shy. If Mr. Colahar noticed, he didn't say a word about it.

With a hum and sharp snap of his notebook, the man pulled out a piece of paper from his coat pocket. His brown locks swayed to the side, and he huffed at this, readjusting his hair promptly with his free hand. Pushing up his glasses, he handed the note to her. "Your schedule, locker number and password, and other details are listed here." Marinette reached for it, but the man quickly pulled it back. "And," he added, "if you do have questions and need answers, ask me or the principal. Although, try not to ask him too much, he's pretty busy." Smiling, he pulled the paper back towards the girl, holding it out. This time, he didn't retract his arm as she took it.

"Thank you, Mr. Colahar," she smiled, and despite how it reached her eyes she couldn't quite shake off the stiffness on her shoulders. They were still raised slightly, and her hands may have been clasped but now they were clammy. With a sigh, not of annoyance, Mr. Colahar placed a hand on one of those shoulders. "These kids are a friendly batch, don't worry kiddo." Her grey eyes, which had been darting around in worry, glazed over with relief as her shoulders relaxed.

"I hope so," she smiled, and this time it did not reach her eyes at all. A frown began to tug at the corners of the man's mouth, but he ignored it. He hoped it was nothing. "Really, don't worry," he repeated. "The only kid in your class you might have to avoid is- well, I'll let you figure that out."

Marinette tilted her head questioningly, but nodded anyway.

"Now, let's introduce you to your new class, shall we?" Letting her pass first, he followed shortly after as his class's chatter died down upon laying eyes on the new exchange student.

"Please, introduce yourself," he cued, and the girl took a deep breath. The class observed, curious, as suddenly the timid girl found the will to steel herself, a beaming smile lighting the whole room.

"Hello, I'm Marinette. It's nice to meet you all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear reader, thank you for stumbling across this new story in my pile of unfinishedness. Yes, I am alive and kicking, thank you very much, but I actually have no idea for how long. Will I finish this story? Will I be consistent? No one knows.


	2. Gotham has its Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet some of Gotham's finest students!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray, I've returned! Oh, joy.

She grinned, and one of the students had the gall to shield his eyes. "Jon, help me, she's too bright," he pleaded, looking to the back to face a boy seated near the window. His friend turned, an eyebrow raised. 

The early sun shined onto the young teen's dark, slightly unkempt hair, and eyes so blue they were almost alien. Those same eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth, and the faintest of laughter lines peeked out from their corners. That boy grinned. "Is that so? I'd be more worried about Damian here." The boy behind him grunted. "Shut up, Kent."

As if that was the trigger, the class woke up from whatever spell Marinette had supposedly cast, and quickly began to settle back into noisy chatter amongst themselves. Not knowing what to do with herself, the girl shifted her stance and posture. Her hands started to fidget again, and her smile didn't fade, but it did now look a little stretched.

Seeming to notice her discomfort, Mr. Colahar cleared his throat, and again the voices died down. "Ms. Dupain-Cheng is the exchange student from Paris," he gestured towards her seat, and she thanked the man briefly before proceeding to her chair. She noticed her seatmates were one of the boys who just spoke, Jon, and the one who had told him to shut up. But before she could initiate a greeting, Mr. Colahar addressed the class. "Now, I know you're all excited to get rowdy and too close into her personal space, but seeing as homeroom is close to over, it's time for trig." This earned a chorus of groans and complaints, but one by one students began pulling out math books nonetheless.

"And please," he went on, "Warren, a little restraint in the theatrics?" Mr. Colahar smirked as the boy wailed, "but that's my whole gumbo in the pot!" This earned him a few not unkind snickers from around him, as the math educator chuckled. Marinette was somewhat amused by it, and pulled out her own book as class began.

From beside her, Jon extended a hand. "Nice to meet you, Marinette." She shook it briefly, then opened her book. "The guy with the mean RBF over there is Damian, and I'm his best friend, Jonathan," using his thumb, he pointed to the boy beside him. Jet-black hair and cat-like emerald eyes were his trademarks, a slight frown and bored look crossing his tan features. "You are _not_ my best friend, Jon," he scowled now, "and say any of that again and I will skin you," he threatened, referring to the remark about his resting face.

Jon just chuckled, laughing it off. "Sure, wonder, sure." Under his breath, he murmured something Marinette couldn't catch. Something which was apparently deserving of a hateful glare from his supposed "best friend".

' _Great,_ ' she thought, ' _my seatmate is a violent flare just waiting to spark. Jonathan isn't much help either._ '

Inwardly mentioned boy then turned back to Marinette. "Sorry about him," he piped up, "Damian's just a grumpy kid." To this Damian retorted with a comment about how if anyone here was kid, it was someone who couldn't open a jar of pickles. 

"Any idiot could have managed that," he scoffed. "I'm really surprised you didn't."

The teen glared. "Not true, Damian. I did open it in the end," he said. 

Damian's scowl returned. "You broke it."

Then, turning to Marinette, he quickly opened his mouth before his friend could retaliate. "Jon, who is in fact, not my friend, came into my house, pocketed a jar of pickles, only to return because he could not open it. He requested for my assistance-"

"To which you refused," Jon added.

"-so he broke it."

Marinette couldn't contain the giggle that escaped her. "Really?" She turned to the other. He sighed, resigned to his fate. "Yeah, pretty much," he said, "and just call me Jon."

Marinette stifled another giggle. "Okay. Nice to meet you both," she said, and noticed that Damian didn't have his book out yet. Ever the angel, the girl offered to share hers. This was met with a shake of his head and curt "no". The girl shrugged, kind smile still in place. "If you're sure," she said.

Jonathan interceded. "Don't worry, Marinette. Damian's a genius; he doesn't even need to listen in class. And by the way," Jon pointed to the girl's ear, "I like your earrings," he said.

"Oh, thanks." Pink scuffled feather-lightly across her cheeks briefly, and her fingers reached up to play with the accessories. "It's my first time wearing another pair. I wanted to try something new. Something a little more loud," she said, fingering the dangling planets. They were orbs made of cloth, and both were blue but had different colors of Saturn-type rings. Dangling at different heights below them were stars, one in gold and the other rose gold.

After giving a look to Damian, Jon asked, curious, "What were you other ones like?"

Marinette put her hand down, letting it rest on her open book. She looked elsewhere, not really seeing what she was looking at. "They were simple earrings," she said. "Red studs with black spots."

Right then, Mr. Colahar called the three students' attention. "Class is starting, Mr. Kent, Ms. Dupain-Cheng," he stared at them, not sparing Damian but knowing he wasn't socializing as much. "I know you want to interrogate the new girl, Jon," and at this he earned a playful outburst from the teen, "but please, focus," he said. In response, despite a few grumblings Jon sat upright, both him and Marinette moving away from each other. They could talk more later, so Marinette began to tune in to what her math-slash-homeroom teacher was saying. But in the back of her mind somewhere, she was hoping she could get to know Damian too.

* * *

When class let out for recess, the boy who had spoken up - well, nearly yelled - in Homeroom came up to Marinette. Following not far behind him were two girls. "Hey, Marinette, right?"

She nodded. "Sorry if I offended you earlier," sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck. 

Marinette scrunched her eyebrows, confused, then quickly changed her expression into concern, then frantic relief. "Oh, no! No, no, no," she shook her head, arms raised and her posture growing stiff again. "You don't need to apologize, you didn't even offend me!" Her pitch rose a little. Warren (if she remembered his name right) dramatically breathed a sigh of relief. He swung his arm and placed a hand on his chest. "Oh, thank goodness," he said, and earned a smack from the girl on his left.

"Ouch! What was that for?" He groaned, rubbing the spot where she hit his shoulder. "This is going to bruise for days!"

"That was the point, idiot." The girl shook her head, ignoring the glare Warren sent her way. Satisfied, she turned to Marinette. "The curly haired idiot is Warren, he's what I call a false redhead," she smirked. Marinette laughed a little, seeing as how she pointed to her own dyed rose-red hair. It hung down past her shoulders, straight bangs covering part of her forehead. "I'm Ellow, by the way."

Marinette nodded.

"Also," she turned, gesturing to a brunette with freckles on Warren's other side, "that girl over there is Kathy." In turn, the aforementioned girl gave a bright smile of her own, her ponytail bouncing as she stepped forward. "Nice to meet you, Mary! Sorry, can I call you that?" She piped up, not holding back her british accent. Kathy's chocolate eyes were wide and a near-cheshire grin was spread below her cute freckles. In only a few seconds she had walked right up to the new girl, gave her a hug, and started talking a mile a minute.

Marinette couldn't help but giggle at the sheer energy of this girl, happy to see someone so bubbly. "You're going to eat with us, right?" She asked, once her excitement calmed a little. "Ellow, Marinette can eat with us, right? Right? Warren, what do you think?" She craned he neck backwards, so that her face was now upside down and her body arched.

Warren had now put his arm down, so he came up to her, placing his hands on her back and pushing her upright. "Slow down, Kath. You have to get her answer first!" He laughed. "But yeah, I'm sure Ellow is cool with it, and obviously so am I," he said. "Damian, Jon, you eating with us today?"

To his surprise, Damian was the first to nod. "Sure, if she will," he said, leaving Warren's mouth gaping. Ellow raised an eyebrow, and Jon had definitely seemed shock, if his wide eyes were anything to go by. But Kathy was not yet satiated.

Grabbing Marinette's hands, she pulled them up and down as she asked repeatedly, "so, you're coming right? Right? Right?" Marinette started laughing again, and as she was unable to regain control of her arms she was forced to concede. "Yes, yes, okay!" She looked to Ellow, her eyes silently asking something. A plead, most likely, for help.

"Yes!" Kathy squeaked, and was about to drag Marinette off when Ellow laid a hand on her arm. "Sweetie, tone down your sugar a bit," she smiled, and just like that Kathy's energy toned down. She stopped bouncing on the balls of her feet, her moving arms came to a stop, and Marinette wasn't sure, but, did her smile fade a little?

It was only for a second, and as soon as it had disappeared she had formed it again. "Sorry about that," she stage-whispered. "I tend to get real excited sometimes. Not good for my blood sugar though, yeah?" She giggled, as if having let her new friend into some juicy secret. It was certainly a surprise, no doubt about that. Marinette's eyebrows furrowed, but then she replaced whatever expression she wore with a bewitching smile, and laughed. ' _Blood sugar,_ ' of this she took a self-note for later macaron-sharing.

"But hey, now that that's settled," Kathy wiggled her eyebrows, "let's eat!" She pumped a fist into the air, having won a victory. Which, apparently, meant getting the new girl to eat with them. Warren smirked, following suit with a whoop. Ellow just shook her head, and they all headed towards the cafeteria. Following close behind were Jon and Damian, watching as Marinette was pulled along by her new circle of friends.

When they arrived, the cafeteria was buzzing with unbridled conversations. Numerous round and rectangular tables were placed in the mess hall, each littered with varying amounts of students. Jon came up front, looking towards the crowded canteen. "Woah, it's full."

"Thanks, captain obvious," Warren retorted, and Ellow scoffed. "See a table anywhere?" He asked, as the group began wandering around. Damian spotted one first, pointing to a rectangular table placed towards the wall. "There."

Jon, seeing an opportunity, dashed and grabbed a seat before anyone else could take it. Damian and Marinette followed, the others having gone to buy food.

Marinette sat across from Damian, who now seated himself beside Jon.

"So, Marinette, how's Paris?" Jon asked, picking up a conversation. Marinette was about to answer, but Damian rolled his eyes and interjected, "We already know what Paris is like, Jon. We've been there." 

This got him a look from the other. "Yeah, well, it's called trying to socialize. You should try it sometime," he smiled. This got him an eyeroll from his compatriot. 

Marinette raised an eyebrow. "If you've already been there, why choose that as your question?" She asked, sharing a look with Damian. Damian chose to rotate a finger around his ear in response, pulling a giggle out of the girl. Jon pretended to be extremely hurt. "Rude," he huffed, crossing his arms and facing away.

Damian faced Marinette. "The dramatic one here is a child. Ignore the idiot," he said. Again, Marinette giggled. Looking between the two, she asked, "Is this always how you interact with each other?" She cocked her head to the side. "You seem very close, for someone who is not Jon's friend," she smiled knowingly.

Damian didn't exactly frown, but he did not look pleased either. Jon looked ecstatic, and turned to Damian. "See!" He gestured towards Marinette, "she agrees that we're best friends!"

"No, she said we seem close. As usual, you don't pay attention to the details." Damian looked to Marinette. "For your information, I have had the unfortunate fate to have known this buffoon since my childhood," he pointed to Jon, who replied with a "whatever".

Marinette smiled. "No wonder. You're so lucky," she said, and Damian was about to ask what on earth could have made her think that he was lucky when she continued, "kinda wish my best friend was here, too."

Something in her tone of voice seemed to die then, withering and fading slowly. But before either boy could ask she changed topics. "So, Damian, Jon, what are your hobbies?" She asked, and brought out a small box of macarons from her bodybag. "Also, I brought macarons for you guys. Here," she offered the box to them, and each took one after thanking her. Damian chose a blue macaron with chocolate creme, while Jon got a near-black brown one with green creme. Marinette said nothing on how they unconsciously chose the other boy's colors.

Jon answered her question. "I like to watch anime, actually," then popped the treat into his mouth. He closed his eyes, savoring the unique flavor. 

"Mmm, sho good." He swallowed, "what flavor is this?"

Marinette beamed. Her smile stretched and her eyes closed in that way that was her magic, and Jon understood why Warren felt the need to protect his eyes. "It's dark chocolate-peppermint," she replied. "I'm glad you like it!"

Then she turned to Damian, repeating her question. 

"I like art," he told her, and afterwards tried his own macaron. He hummed in approval. "Not bad."

Marinette basked in his compliment - or at least, that's what she thought it was. "Thanks!"

Right then, Warren, Ellow, and Kathy returned with snacks in hand. They each took a seat, and as Marinette handed each of them macarons the group settled into a comfortable chatter. As they talked, the girl couldn't help but smile ruefully, the warmth reminding her of the one she once had in Paris. But she didn't want to think of those things right now, so instead she focused on the conversation, her newfound friends, and the exciting month that awaited her.

She was in Gotham now, after all. Maybe this trip is exactly what she needs.

* * *

Bonus:

Later that night, Jon watched as Damian typed away on the Batcave's extensive computer system, sandwich (courtesy of Alfred) in hand. On the screen, several pictures of Marinette were displayed along with her file. He had no idea why, but his friend seemed to be curious about this girl. Heck, he was even not threatening towards her. What was that about?

"I have no clue as to what you are referring to, Jon," Damian answered. Jon silently cursed himself for speaking out loud, but explained anyway.

"This morning, the girl," he began, "you didn't threaten her. Not once. You didn't even brush her off, and you're..." he trailed off, not knowing what to call Damian other than, "you're you."

Damian paused in his typing, turning to Jon. "And?" He asked, not getting his point still. Jon scoffed, unbelieving. "You're kidding," he said. "Let me remind you who of us is the sociable one?"

Damian grunted, and went back to searching whatever he was looking for on the girl. "I can be sociable. Was this morning not proof?"

Jon took a bite from his sandwich, and swallowed. "That's exactly it - you can be, but you're just not. You don't like people. In general." He waved his sandwich as he made gestures. "It's weird! For you to actually talk to someone, that is. Other than me, or the Teen Titans, or your family. By the way, I still want in on that," he added.

Damian rolled his eyes. "Find some kid's club to join."

"I'm taller," Jon retorted.

"Heard that before."

"Whatever, I'm better than you, and the Teen Titans like me. And therefore, since I am in fact better than you, they like me better than you."

"Keep dreaming, kid."

"Says the one who was petty enough to drag down my reputation in front of the new girl."

Damian scoffed. "I did not do that."

Jon pointed at him accusingly. "Uh, yeah, you did. You had to bring up the jar, huh?"

"You're an idiot, it's a given. She already knew that. She's smart."

Jon flung his arms into the air, effectively tossing his sandwich across the room when he lost his grip on it. "See, this is exactly what I mean! You're giving her a compliment, and you just met her! This morning!" He exclaimed. "What, is she going to take my place as your best friend next?"

Damian, having heard the splat of his poor sandwich on the ground, mumbled something about Alfred and murder. Jon chose not to listen for the sake of peace of mind.

"You're not my best friend," Damian reiterated, as if saying that constantly was going to change his mind. Jon ignored him. "Why are you so interested in her, anyway? As soon as she passed us in the hallway, and let me remind you - class hadn't even started yet - you've been acting different." He raised a brow, tone serious now.

"Damian, you are never interested in someone. Not unless he or she is family, friend-"

"You're not my friend," Damian repeated.

"-or hero-related," he finished.

Damian didn't know what to say to that, because it was true. So he didn't.

Jon sighed. "Well, I'm not going to keep badgering you on that," he said. Then he smirked.

"I'll let your brothers do that for me."

Damian had the urge to kick him out of the room. Thankfully, Alfred was going to give that kid what he deserved, seeing as he had just come in to see the wasted snack. Damian had to conceal the smug look that attempted to cross his face.

" _Master Kent._ "

The super teen paled, feeling the presence of a dangerous, dangerous man behind him.

He gulped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I plan this? Yes, yes I did. I am satisfied. Does Jon survive? No, I don't know. Wish him luck. Also, if he's out of character I'm sorry, I don't know him that well.
> 
> P. S. If you saw my shameless Supersons reference, you're amazing.
> 
> P. S. S. Marinette's Ladybug earrings exist. There is plot there.


End file.
